


Up the river

by zipadeea



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Culture, Gen, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Paralysis, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 09:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14952465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zipadeea/pseuds/zipadeea
Summary: Lance falls in a river on a strange planet, and gets stranded up the river with an even stranger kid. He's getting pretty tired of waiting for his friends to come rescue him, before realizing, maybe this time, he's going to have to figure out a way to save himself.





	Up the river

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually the first Voltron fanfic I ever wrote. It's been posted on Fanfiction.net for awhile, but I figured I might as well put it here since I finally got an account. Honestly, I have no idea where this came from. Lance whump definitely, with some Elisabeth Kubler-Ross and various religious ideologies sprinkled in. Also, cursing. If those aren’t your things, probably best if you just don’t read. 
> 
> And just finished season six today and.....oh my god. It was just, perfect. It was so good. Definitely the best season yet, in my opinion. I take back any whining and complaining I ever did about the lion swap and black paladin Keith because it was all a setup so the episode "The Black Paladins" could happen and damn that was a masterpiece. I loved season six so much. If you're reading this and haven't watched it yet, go watch, that's how good it was. Lol. For those of you who stayed to read, hope you enjoy!

“Shit.” Is the first word that comes to Lance’s lips as he comes around. His head is pounding, left leg feels like it’s about to come off, and there’s a stupid rock digging right between his shoulder blades that tells him he’s lying on his back on the cold, hard ground.

“About time you woke up,” an unfamiliar voice scoffs from Lance’s right. Lance flicks his gaze over, fear filling him at the sound, before taking in the figure who spoke. He’s small, the size of a child, and humanoid in appearance, except for his enormous blue eyes, at least double the size of Lance’s, and light purple skin.

He’s Lakeerian, Lance realizes suddenly, and memories flood  him. Landing with Blue on Lakeeri earlier that day, meeting the human-like natives with their pretty lavender-colored skin, and fighting to drive the incoming Galra from the religious settlement next to the Lakeerian’s sacred river.

Lance had been shot in the leg, he recalls abruptly, pushing Keith out of the way of a killshot. The momentum of the shot had pushed Lance over the steep embankment, and down into the dark river below. He remembers screaming, and terrified, tinny voices shouting his name bouncing around his helmet. And then…

“Shit.” Lance says again, attempting to roll over and face the tiny Lakeerian, before Lance realizes that he. Cannot. Move. Like, not all at. Not his leg, not his finger, not even twitch his nose. He can feel his breathing pick up in his panic, and a roaring, louder even than the river beside them has filled his ears.

“It’s the water,” The kid says calmly, stopping Lance’s panic in its tracks. “There’s a neurotoxin in it, it paralyzes you for a while, depends on how long you were in and how much you ingested. It should wear off.” And, actually, Lance kind of remembers now, remembers Coran warning them earlier that morning to stay away from the river and its paralyzing toxins. Yep, that was totally thing.

Welp, Lance thinks, chuckling humorlessly to himself, he has once again epically failed to follow directions. The team’s gonna be so pissed.

Lance does his best to look at the kid at his side, and notices that he too seems affected by the water. He’s lucky enough to be propped up by a nearby tree, but all of his limbs are floppy and lifeless, and his head is tipped back, resting on the orange trunk as he stares at Lance.

“How’d you get here, kid? I thought we evacuated everybody from the settlement before the Galra got there.” The kid doesn’t answer, and kind of rolls his eyes in a way that tells Lance that, if he could, the kid would be shrugging his shoulders.

“Don’t really remember, it just kind of happened. I guess I washed up here, same as you.” Lance looks around as best he can, and finds that they’re both settled on a shallow embankment of the river. The sand and rocks are pink, the trees surrounding them are orange, but the river roaring next to them is blue-ish green. Besides the off coloring, it feels a whole lot like Earth.

“You are extraordinarily calm for a kid who doesn’t remember falling into a river and woke up paralyzed with a stranger,” Lance observes. The kid just does the eye shrug again. He looks about the size of a human eight year old. He’s dressed in the (now soaked) traditional white shift-thing of the religious Lakeerians, but he’s missing the elaborate braids of the priests and priestesses and those in training that they’d evacuated from the settlement. Instead, his inky black hair falls around his face to his collarbone, dripping with river water.

Lance realizes that he’s soaked as well. His armor has kept out the worst of the river, but his helmet is gone, and he can see it out of the corner of his eye, propped up on a rock four feet to the left of him, cracked through the visor. His brown hair is soaked, and one strand is flopping over his eye, and it annoys him to no end that he can’t just shove it away. He tries blowing it off his forehead for a few seconds before giving up.

“What happens, happens,” the kid says sagely. “Nothing we can do about it now.”

“Yeah, kid, I don’t think so,” Lance responds, flicking his eyes back to his cracked helmet. “SHIRO! ALLURA! HUNK, KEITH, PIDGE! CORAN! Somebody, answer me! I’m up the river, I washed up! Could really use a rescue right about now, can’t really move! HELP! Ayudame! C’mon, friends, get down here!” Lance is bellowing, trying to turn his mouth to the left, away from the kid and towards his cracked helmet.

He does that for a few minutes, until his voice gets hoarse and he begins coughing incessantly. Once the coughing stops, Lance turns his gaze back to the kid. The kid looks supremely annoyed, and Lance knows if he could, the kid would have covered his ears with his hands.

“You finished yet?” The boy asks, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Lance is the one to roll his eyes this time.

“You can’t just give up,” Lance tells the kid.

“I’m not giving up, I’m waiting. My father will come get me, he has a boat. He’ll take me home up the river.”

Lance doesn’t get a chance to respond, because all at once, tinny voices are filtering through the helmet, reaching his ears over the rush of the river.

_“Lance! Lance, buddy, please. C’mon, you’ll be okay, you’re okay. Come back!”_

_“Kiddo, it’s gonna be fine, I promise--,”_

_“Idiot, you gotta answer us--,”_

_“Please, Lance!”_

The voices are panicked, pleading, and they all unmistakably belong to his friends.

“GUYS I’M HERE! I’M HERE! I’m up the river! You have to come get me this time, I can’t get to you! COME IN--,” but he starts coughing again, and can’t find it in him to stop this time. And coughing when you can’t move your body, but are actually very injured, hurts like a mother-fucker, Lance realizes. His leg is literally going to fall off, he’s pretty sure, and his ribs feel like they’re cracking one by one, and his head. Don’t even get him started on his head.

And that stupid, stupid rock is still caught under his shoulders.

Tears are streaming down his face from the pain, and over his agony he can hear the staticky voices.

_“Lance, c’mon, give us something!”_

_“Please, please, buddy!”_

_“Oh, God, oh my God--,”_

_“Shit, fuck, fucking hell, Lance, Lance!”_

And everything hurts, and _Shiro_ is cursing along with everyone else, and no matter how loud he yells they can’t hear him. They can’t find him.

Lance is pissed.

“Come ON!” Lance screams. “What the hell! Somebody listen to me, why can’t you find me? All I did was go up the river, this shouldn’t be that hard! Get in a lion and look idiots!”

Which, of course, leads to a new thought.

Where is Blue?

Why hasn’t his trusty Blue come and picked him up yet, like Red seems to do so often for Keith? Doesn’t she love him? Doesn’t she want him back more than anyone else?

He tests the bond, and finds her still there, but it’s vague, and far away. It hasn’t been cut, if it had been Lance knows he’d be in even more anguish now, but he can’t feel her that well. He definitely can’t communicate with her now, nor she with him, he suspects.

What the actual hell.

“They can’t hear you,” the kid observes pragmatically, bringing Lance back to the present.

“I figured that out on my own, thanks,” Lance bites back, and the kid does his stupid eye-shrug thing again. Lance is getting _so_ annoyed with that.

“Dude, how the hell are you so _calm_? What is happening right now?” Lance wonders aloud, because why is he losing it while this eight year old kid is able to just go with the flow and wait?

“My father is coming for me,” the kid says calmly.

“But how do you know?” Lance asks savagely, and the boy shrugs.

The boy shrugs.

Like, not just the stupid eye-shrug, his shoulders moved up and down slightly.

“Oh my God, it’s wearing off, you can move it’s coming back!” Lance says, overjoyed. He immediately tries to move himself, fingers, toes, anything, but nothing is budging for him.

The kid observes silently, before saying, “You were probably in the water longer than me.”

“Well, kiddo, you can move! You can save us! C’mon go, crawl or something to my helmet, call my friends. They’ll take you back to your dad up the river, I promise.”

The kid doesn’t move. For the first time he looks scared. He looks his age, and Lance curses his rabid enthusiasm.

“Please, kid, please, just try to go get my helmet,” Lance tries to say calmly, after taking a deep breath. “Seriously, we’ll take you back to your dad, and, dude, my friends and I live in a castle, you can pick out whatever kind of reward you want. We have these healing pods, too, they’ll fix you right up, one minute you’re hurt and the next, poof! You’re all better, and--,”

“No.” The kid says it quietly, but firmly. His eyes still look terrified. “No, I—it hurts. I don’t want to move, I’m sorry, I just, I can’t. My father will come, he’ll take us up the river, it will be fine, we’ll be safe.”

Shit. Shit shit shitty shit. Lance can feel tears in his eyes, because he can’t do a thing, but this kid _can_ , and he just _won’t_. And suddenly, Lance feels horribly awful because he’s been yelling and begging an eight year old kid to do something terrible and painful to himself, just because he could shrug his shoulder half an inch and Lance can’t.

“Okay.” Lance says softly, after a minute. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I yelled, I just, I just want my friends to come for me, too, and I don’t understand why they aren’t.” And the tears are streaming then, because this is so scary, and Lance can’t move, and his friends can’t hear him and Blue can’t hear him and he just wants to be home. He wants to be safe. He wants his parents and his brothers and sisters and his dog Cooper, but right now he’d totally settle for Coran and Allura and the paladins. For Hunk’s hugs, and Pidge’s punches, and Keith’s eye rolls, and Shiro’s lectures and a healing pod.

The kid gives him a soft smile. “My father will come, he’ll take us up the river. We’ll be safe. It’s peaceful there.”

Lance doesn’t really care about peaceful at the moment. “Can my friends find me there? Can I contact them?”

The kid looks at him oddly for a moment. “They can find you there, yes.”

Lance doesn’t miss the fact that the kid doesn’t answer about the contact thing. He decides to ignore it for the moment.

“Hey, kid, what’s your name?” Lance asks, for as long as they’ve been talking, it’s pretty rude he never even asked, just called him “kid.”

“Inkwenkwe Yokufa Komlambo,” The kid responds, and Lance takes a moment to digest that mouthful.

“I’m gonna call you Inky, is that okay?” Lance asks, taking in the kid’s inky black hair once again. The kid smiles and nods his head slightly.

“I’m Lance.”

“I know,” the kid responds, and Lance wonders how he already knows. Probably just the whole Voltron thing, and recognizing that he was a paladin, the blue paladin based on his armor.

The kid suddenly sits up straighter, a bright smile on his face. “Here comes my father!” Inky says happily, and Lance can’t really see it, but he can hear something washing up on to the shore.

“You have to give him something to get up the river,” Inky says suddenly. “You have to pay the toll.”

“What?” Lance asks, confused. “I don’t, I don’t have anything, Inky. Allura might be able to give you something, once she finds me…”

“No, no the river is special. It won’t take you unless you can give something in return--,”

“It’s all right, my son,” A deep voice says, and suddenly a huge, purple, broad shouldered man has filled Lance’s vision. He’s taller than Shiro, wearing a white robe just like Inky, and his black hair falls all the way down to his butt. His back is to Lance, gently gathering his son to cradle him in his arms, before turning to face Lance.

The huge blues eyes, identical to Inky’s bore into Lance’s own. “There are those down the river willing to pay his toll,” And this guy is huge and muscle-y and powerful, and part of Lance thinks he should be afraid of him. But Lance sees how tenderly Inky’s father treats his son, how soft and kind the man’s eyes are as he looks at Lance, and he can’t find it in himself to be afraid.

“But who?” Lance asks the father suddenly, “I don’t know anyone up the river.” Instead of the father answering, Lance’s senses are overwhelmed with memories: the smell of his grandfather’s cigars, and sound of his rocking chair on the front porch as he cuddles Lance in his lap; the smell of his grandmother’s cookies baking in the oven, the feeling of her squishing him against her in a soft hug; the sound of his friend Max’s laughter as they race their bikes around the block, the smell of the hot asphalt and the salty sweat dripping down his face.

Lance is crying now, and he’s not quite sure why, because these are happy memories, wonderful memories with people who are gone to Lance, who are farther away now than even his family left on Earth.

Lance looks up through his tears, and Inky and his father are both smiling at him softly. The father’s arm is open, ready to carry Lance to his boat and take him up the river.

 _“Lance, please. Please don’t go.”_ The voice is soft, and even harder to hear now, barely a whisper over the deafening sound of the river. It’s Shiro. He sounds horrible, and desperately sad. It makes Lance’s heart hurt to listen.

“I think,” Lance finally says, “I think I need to stay. I need to find my friends.” The father continues to smile kindly, pulling his hand away. Inky looks sad for a moment, before smiling once again.

“I’ll see you again someday, Lance.” Inky says, and Lance smiles too because he will, he knows he will, just like he’ll see his abuelo and abuela and Max again. It’s just not going to happen today.

“Can you help me? Can you help me find my friends?” Lance asks the father, and he nods, placing a large, but gentle hand over Lance’s eyes. Suddenly, the world is dark, and the noise of the river is finally fading away. Everything is disappearing, but Lance can’t find it in him to be afraid. He knows he’s finally going home.

000

When Lance opens his eyes, everything hurts. A lot. His leg is throbbing, his head is pounding, and his body feels weirdly hot and cold at the same time. It’s still difficult to move, but he’s able to turn his head slightly so he figures movement is finally, finally beginning to come back to him.

Lance is in the infirmary, on a bed and not in a pod, which he finds pretty strange. He’s in one of the white suits for the healing pods, but his leg has bandages around it, and he can feel them surrounding his head, so he’s guessing he hasn’t been placed in cryo yet.

Somebody is holding his hand, tightly, Lance suddenly realizes, and he turns his head as well as he can to see Shiro sitting beside him, Shiro’s flesh hand firmly gripping Lance’s right one.

Shiro’s in a chair next to his bed, head down, with his Galra hand covering his eyes. The hand can’t hide the tears slipping down Shiro’s cheeks though.

Shiro is crying. _Shiro_ , tough-as-nails, badass, best leader there ever was, Takashi Shirogane, is crying.

Shit.

“Shiro,” Lance mumbles out, but now it feels like he’s swallowed actual glass along with everything else, “Shiro.” He tries again, doing his best to squeeze Shiro’s hand.

Shiro stiffens in shock, and lifts his head from his hand to look up.

“Lance?” He says in disbelief, looking at Lance’s open eyes, his fingers trying desperately to squeeze Shiro’s own. Lance’s lips turn up slowly.

“Hey,” he whispers out, and suddenly Shiro has swept him up to a seated position, gently but quickly, and he’s leaning against Shiro’s body, and Shiro’s arms are tight around him, his head cupped by Shiro’s hand, his face resting against Shiro’s shoulder.

And Shiro is actually, full-on crying. Fighting against a sob, if you ask Lance.

“Jesus Christ, kid,” Shiro says, once he’s able to take a breath. He has yet to release Lance from the hug. Lance isn’t sure he’s ready to be let go anyway. “Jesus Christ. You scared the shit out of us.”

“Sorry,” Lance croaks into Shiro’s neck. Shiro begins petting Lance’s hair.

“No, it’s not your fault, just….Shit, that was scary. We weren’t sure you were coming back, kiddo.”

“I wasn’t sure I was either,” Lance responds without thinking, and he can feel Shiro stiffen at that, feel him look down at him. Lance closes his eyes, and rests more comfortably on Shiro’s shoulder. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, we need to get you in a pod now,” Shiro says, and Lance hears him call quietly for Coran over his shoulder. There’s quick rustling somewhere across the room, and Lance opens his eyes to see Coran standing before them, hand over his mouth and tears in his eyes as well.

“Hello, my dear boy,” Coran finally says, composing himself, and rushing to unhook Lance from the machines he’s just now noticing are attached all over his body.

“Hi, Coran,” he mumbles softly, and he smiles when Coran runs his fingers through Lance’s hair.

Finally, Coran is finished, and gently as he can, Shiro lifts Lance into his arms and walks him over the pod Coran has opened. Coran aids Shiro in getting Lance settled , and they both give him watery smiles once he’s steady.

“We’ll be right here when you wake up, buddy. We’ll explain everything then.” Shiro says.

It’s the last thing he hears before the doors shut.

000

When the pod doors open a second later, it is not just Coran and Shiro, but the whole gang there waiting for him to get out. They’re all smiling and crying, and he’s still so tired, but they’re basically playing pass-the-Lance, taking turns hugging him and holding him, and Lance isn’t gonna lie, it’s pretty great.

“Don’t ever do that again!” Hunk bellows at him, hugging him so tightly Lance’s feet leave the floor and he spins him in a circle.

Lance promises not to, and once they all realize how tired and weak he still is they walk him over to a bed and let him sit. Allura wraps a blanket around his shoulders when she notices him shiver, and then he finally, finally, asks what really happened.

“You fell in the river after you took my shot,” Keith says suddenly. “Blue got you out right away, but the damage was done.”

“What damage?” Lance asks, because yeah, neurotoxin, and blaster wound, but those shouldn’t have almost killed him.

“The toxin in the river, it paralyzes Lakeerians,” Pidge says, “But apparently for humans it’s also poisonous. You were just…unresponsive, Lance. Your organs were shutting down one by one, and we couldn’t put you in a pod unless the toxin was out of your system, and you ingested some of it, and the wound in your leg didn’t help and--,”

“How long was I out?” Lance asks, because he doesn’t need to hear any more from Pidge, who looks near tears again.

“Week and a half,” Shiro responds. And wow. That’s a lot.

“Geez, it only felt like a couple hours to me.”

They all look down at him like he sprouted an extra head.

“You were aware while you were unconscious?” Allura finally asks, sounding confused and a bit horrified. Lance shrugs his shoulders, then thinks of Inky and nearly smiles.

“I mean, kind of? I don’t know, I was probably hallucinating. It was like I washed up by the side of the river after I fell in, and I couldn’t move, but my helmet was there and you were all telling me to come back, but you couldn’t hear me when I called for you. They this little Lakeerian kid with a weird name was there, but I called him Inky, and he kept saying his dad was gonna come save us and take us up the river.

“Then his dad did come, and Inky said I needed some kind of payment, then his dad said people up the river would pay for me, but I heard Shiro through the helmet telling me to come back, so I asked Inky’s dad to help me find my way back instead, and well, now I’m here.”

The paladins look confused, Shiro looks a bit misty-eyed again, but Coran and Allura look positively awestruck.

“Was the child’s name Inkwenkwe Yokufa Komlambo by chance?” Coran asks slowly. Lance nods.

“Yeah, that’s it. It was a mouthful, so I just asked if I could call him Inky and he was good with it. How did you know his name?” Lance asks, flabbergasted.

“Oh good gracious,” Coran mutters before taking a hard seat on the stairs. Allura grabs Keith’s shoulder for support.

“Uh, guys, what’s wrong?” Hunk asks hesitantly.

“Nothing is wrong,” Allura says finally, but her eyes are still wide with shock. “No, nothing…just, oh my, Lance, you have been given a great gift.

“Huh?”

“The Lakeerians are a very spiritual people. The believe a great being they call the Father created the universe, and that he sent his son Inkwenkwe Yokufa Komlambo down to become one with His people, to help open the gateway of the Great River of Stars and allow the righteous to join Him in the After Up the River once life has ended.”

Everyone looks very pale after this explanation. For a moment, Lance feels sick, and he’s pretty sure he’s going to puke.

Instead a laugh bursts out of him.

“Lance!” Coran says, scandalized, “This is very serious, you of all people should not make light of the revelations brought forth today!”

Lance can’t stop laughing, “No, no I know, I just, oh my God, I called Lakeerian Jesus _Inky_ and he let me, holy shit--,”

And then everyone is laughing because it is so hilarious, and yet huge and life-altering and terrifying, and yet not, that really what else is there to do?

It takes a few minutes, but finally everyone settles down. Lance lets out a huge yawn, and Hunk pushes him down the lay on the bed, and pulls up the sheets to cover him. Lance smiles at his friends still standing there, always waiting for him, always there to welcome him home.

“They’re good, Inky and his dad. I’m glad it wasn’t a hallucination. They wanted what was best for me, but I think they know sometimes you gotta choose what’s best for you,” Lance yawns again. “I’m glad they let me come back. I think it’s good wherever they are too, Up the River or whatever, but only when it’s time. It’s not scary, they’re not scary, it’s peaceful. Safe. But it’s not quite the same as living. Only when we’re ready, when they’re ready for us. Then we get in the boat.”

Lance’s eyes are closed, and somebody’s sniffling again, but Lance is smiling. Because everything has changed, but not really. He’s safe, and his friends are with him. Life is good. And someday, long from now, he knows that whatever may come is good, too.

And that gives him peace.


End file.
